The Van to Hell
by BellaStarkidEve
Summary: In a world where no one knows anything except the rules, there is a van people fear more than death itself. No one knows why it comes, they only know of the stories of abductions. Kurt Hummel was told those stories, but he never thought he'd be in one.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello, and welcome to my story. For anyone getting this as an update: I just added this author's note.**

**This fic features a sort of dystopian society... if you can call it that. Same-sex couples don't exist in this world because the "government" takes away anyone who begins to think that way. Kurt Hummel is taken away one night, only he doesn't know why. This is his story.**

**There are magical/supernatural elements later on in this fic.**

* * *

People turn away in disgust, or they simply don't acknowledge it. They know who it carries, but they don't know where it's going. The only people informed of its destination are the one's driving it, and there are stories that those very drivers are killed after so many routes. The people inside don't know what will happen to them, they don't even know what they did wrong. People talk about the detainees in secret, whispering about who it is this time. Only the adults know what it is. Only the adults know what it carries. But every parent shares the same fear: the fear that one of their children might get taken by it one day. They fear that the black van will come in the dead of night and steal away their own flesh and blood.

Kurt Hummel liked looking good. He liked making sure everyone knew he was the most fashionable boy at McKinley. He liked the stares he got when he walked down the halls. The girls _and_ the boys would stare. He simply continued walking though. No one could look as good as him.

Kurt Hummel didn't have a girlfriend. 'None of them were good enough for him' is what he told people when they asked, but really, he just never really had feelings for one. He didn't have feelings for anyone really. He loved himself and his clothes and that was enough.

Oh, and his voice. He loved that too. It was high and angelic; people were _moved _when he sang.

But then he saw a boy differently for the first time. It was almost as if he was _attracted _to the boy. Was that possible? Surely not. Not a soul ever walked around with the same gender. It wasn't natural; it was probably just a phase, a trend in his body. Fashion had trends, so why couldn't his body? Right then and there, Kurt made the silent decision to never speak of this little phase of his. Maybe when he woke up the next morning, he'd go back to being completely in love with his reflection.

The bell rang for the end of the day, causing students to rush into the parking lot, desperate to escape the brick walls. Kurt sighed and preformed a strut all the way to his Navigator, just like yesterday, and the day before that… just like he would do every day of high school. The parking lot emptied like a candy jar in a doctor's waiting room, and Kurt rolled out and down to his lovely home he shared with his dad. Cookie-cutter houses passed by him on all sides, telling him that he was quickly approaching his destination. His foot lightly pressed on the brake as the white house came into view.

Home, sweet, home.

* * *

It was stupid to be afraid of the dark. Kurt was never afraid before, but there was something different about his basement bedroom this night. He felt almost as if something was there, waiting for him to drift into a peaceful sleep. His hands sweated underneath the heavy comforter as he gripped the edges tightly. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, threatening to impair his hearing. But he was being stupid. Nothing was there, and so he drifted.

_A sharp prick, a small pulling, musty air, moving ground._

When he woke up, he definitely wasn't in his bed. He shifted his weight for a few seconds, only to discover he was on a cot. _A cot. _What. The. Hell. His body shot up so fast that all the blood escaped his brain and he went unconscious again, this time on the filthy floor. His shirt rode up on the left side, and cold metal kissed his pale flesh, burning it like acid. No sooner was he knocked out, that he was awake again. His head pounded from the sudden shift in blood flow, and his nerves took _forever _to react to the still burning in his side. When he did feel it, he screamed.

No one else was in the moving box he was trapped in. No one could hear him. No one would ever hear him again.

In a few short moments, he was curled on the musty cot, hugging his knees tightly to his chest and wishing this was all a bad dream. He just needed to wake up... soon.

* * *

It was hours before the doors opened, and before Kurt could even properly survey the figures in the opening, blinding lights lit up the night. He forced his eyes to close against the harsh brilliance just as the two figures pulled him out of the cold box. They didn't seem to care if they hurt him or not. They all but dragged him to a large gray building with no visible windows. As he surveyed the strange scene, he took note of the towering chain-link fence with spirals of shining barbed wire.

Wherever he was, he wasn't leaving anytime soon.

The sound of sliding doors registered somewhere in his brain and Kurt forced himself to raise his gaze to in front of him. All he could see was a dingy, equally gray room with a petite blonde behind a reception table. She was typing on a holoboard keypad, humming an unfamiliar tune to herself as the two men cleared their throats. Her head snapped up in an instant, her humming lost.

"Name?"

"Hummel, Kurt."

Almost instantly, she was there by Kurt's side. Her white blouse was the brightest thing in the room given her pencil skirt was the same drab gray as the rest of the facility. She brought his chin up with her slender fingers and tutted in disappointment.

"Such a pretty face. A shame he's one of them." Kurt winced as one of the men jerked him away from the woman. "Should I put him in council or go ahead and assign him given the late hour?"

"Assign him."

The holoboard reappeared less than an inch from Kurt's face. He watched as she moved through floor plans and blinking dots before clicking on a red light and entering a 9-digit passcode. Suddenly, the wall behind her desk disappeared, revealing a long courtyard with dogwoods and genetically-altered palm trees that had branches and leaves like a maple tree. There was a fountain in the middle that Kurt noticed was pouring something white and smelled like roses the closer he got. The blonde woman pointed to a black door to the right that had a red light similar to the one from the holoboard on it.

"Room 498-W. The bell for breakfast will be ringing in five hours. You miss breakfast if you sleep past seven, which gives you a two hour window. Goodnight, Mr. Hummel." The door was closed and he was thrown into darkness.

Kurt fell to the carpeted floor, and cried.

* * *

Burt didn't have anything other than his son. Kurt was everything to him. He was the reason the man even got out of bed after Elizabeth died. Kurt was his ray of sunshine, his light in the darkness, his only reason to _be._

The moment he saw the Heir's red stamp on the basement door, he couldn't stop the familiar pain that shot through his arm and into his chest. He couldn't stop the cry that escaped his lips. He couldn't stop the heart attack. What was the point anyway? Kurt wasn't coming back. He wouldn't be at his bedside willing Burt to wake up this time. Burt would never see his little boy's blue-green eyes or hear his wonderful voice ever again.

Kurt was dead, just like him.

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are love.**


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Sorry about the wait. Real Life is a bitch.**

**My tumblr is bellastarkideve. Ask anything you want to know about this or any of my other stories. Sometimes I forget about some of my stories so just ask about an update if it gets a while.**

**Anything recognizable is not mine.**

* * *

When Kurt woke up, he was in the same position on the floor that he was thrown in in the night before; limbs splayed out in every direction with his face pressed into the soft carpet. His bruised and aching body was still clothed in his comfortable t-shirt and pants he had originally gone to bed in, and his head pounded while his joints screamed in pain from their lack of movement throughout the night. He knew better than to think it all a dream. The unfamiliar surroundings were enough to tell him that he certainly wasn't dreaming.

A florescent light coming from somewhere Kurt couldn't see was illuminating the strange place. It was a small space, but not so small that it was cramped and uncomfortable. The plush carpet was the same drab gray of the building he had already seen, and the walls were a soft green that reminded him of an Easter egg. It was strangely... calming. A twin bed was pressed up against the far corner of the small room, covered in a black comforter and two pillows: one gray, one white. Gray seemed to be the dominant color in this facility. There were gray drapes over a holographic window—it had to be holographic… it was on an inside wall—over an ebony desk with a white chair. There was a wardrobe by the door, the wood the same ebony stain as the desk, but no clock. Where was the clock? The desk lady had told him to be out to breakfast by a specific time, but how on earth was he to know what time it even was if there wasn't a single time-telling device in his room.

"There isn't a clock in—" He began to mumble, but the moment he said clock, a large digital display appeared in the middle of his room. Its bright red numbers read 6:42 am. He watched it blink for a moment, the numbers starting to put him on edge for some reason. Without thinking, Kurt rose to his feet, stumbled through the large clock, and ran out the door. No sooner was he outside that he was colliding into something and on the ground again.

"I am so sorry! I am so, so sorry!"

Kurt frowned at the unfamiliar voice. It didn't sound loud and threatening like the two guards that carried him in did. It was sincere and… concerned? He _tried_ not to flinch when two hands wrapped around the back of his arms to help him up, but the way the guards had handled him last night left him sore and probably bruised. The strange voice laughed.

"You've been around Cacius and Brnsun? They like to grab and jerk, gives them a thrill... there you are."

On his feet, Kurt finally took the opportunity to properly take in his surroundings. The sky was a soft pink with oranges and golds swirled together like paint on a mixing palette… obviously a hologram. That or wherever they were had a pink sky. It gave the white flowers on the dogwoods a faint rosy tint that almost suited them better than their natural creamy color. He thought back to last night when he was all but dragged through the courtyard. The stadium lights on the buildings had managed to wash out every inch of the scene, even the dogwood blooms. His nose wrinkled in confusion. Why did this place feel so empty, yet there was beauty in the smallest details? It just didn't make sense.

"They think making this place so amazing will make us forget."

Kurt turned around to finally face the voice of his morning run-in. The boy, not older than him, was looking up at the sky just like he had just been doing. His gaze was locked in on some distant piece of the atmosphere, almost like he could see through the peaceful guise in place before them. He practically glowed when he phased out. Even standing up straight, he was slightly shorter than Kurt, not enough to really notice, but shorter nonetheless. His dark hair was gelled back viciously, smoothing out any sort of texture in it. Kurt frowned. "Forget?"

The boy smiled as if he had just brought up an inside joke, and Kurt's stomach did a small flip. "Forget that we are never leaving."

His smile vanished as he looked at Kurt, eyes raking down his pale body quickly before locking his hazel gaze with Kurt's own.

"Blaine."

The name didn't register to him. He was lost in those hazel eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" Warmth flooded the spot on his arm that Blaine lightly touched, and he was jerked back to reality.

"Sorry, yeah. I'm... Kurt."

There was that smile again. "Kurt. I like it."

"Thanks." He smiled back.

Blaine extended his hand. "So, Kurt, would you like to accompany me to breakfast."

Kurt just stared at the hand blankly. "I'm not hungry."

"Oh, don't worry…" Blaine grabbed his hand, and the warmth from it rushed up his arm and into his chest, relaxing the tension in his shoulders. "you will be when you smell the food."

So Kurt followed him. He followed this boy, Blaine, whom he hadn't even known for more than five minutes. Blaine pulled him through the courtyard specked with men and women by trees reading or sleeping. There was a gentle wind blowing through the branches, causing a soft rustling that made Kurt close his eyes and just listen. It was so peaceful here. He could just sleep in the grass and listen to the wind and fountain forever. But then what Blaine said earlier hit him. _They think making this place so amazing that will make us forget... forget that we are never leaving. _His eyes shot open and a sob ripped through his throat without warning. Blaine stopped and spun around.

"Kurt?"

"I came here in the black van." It wasn't a question. He _knew _it wasn't a question. Blaine didn't have to answer him. Kurt knew now.

"Yes."

Suddenly, he couldn't hear the fountain, he couldn't feel the wind, and he couldn't see the sky. Everything just went black, and he toppled to the floor, screaming.

"My dad. His heart can't take this. It won't take this. This is going to kill him!" Memories from his mother's funeral came crashing down onto him. The coffin, the flowers, his dad crying. His chest felt hollow. He had nothing left; he was empty. There was literally nothing left for him. He wasn't going home, and even if he could, the house would be burned to the ground. It was infected. _He _was infected.

So he screamed.

The five or six people in the courtyard shot him and the boy kneeling beside him sympathetic looks. Blaine placed his thumb in the middle of Kurt's forehead, and the warmth spread through his body in a second flat.

He passed out.

* * *

When Kurt woke up, someone was humming a song he remembered from his earlier high school days.

_Blackbird singing in the dead of night,  
Take these broken wings and learn to fly._

He smiled softly and rolled onto his side, only to meet a small body of heat. He screwed his eyes shut, and swallowed the bad taste in his mouth. "Dad?"

The humming stopped and an exasperated sigh replaced the soothing melody. A familiar warmth spread across his chest, the empty feeling residing slowly. His eyes snapped open. Blaine was smiling sympathetically down at him.

"No, Kurt."

Kurt waited for the pain of loss to wash over him and his tear ducts to fill, but the sensation never came. He was stuck laying there with Blaine's hand on his chest.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

The hand retracted with light speed, and the feelings Kurt was waiting for hit him like a ton of bricks. Every bad feeling pushed into his chest so quickly, he was afraid he might burst. Every part of his body felt cold, and he instantly longed for the warming feeling produced by Blaine's hand. Kurt reached weakly for it, but Blaine pulled back.

"I forget about my power sometimes." he said, looking down at his hands.

Kurt sat up, vaguely aware that they were in a secluded corner of a field. "Wha—"

"I'm a healer, Kurt. What else could your sudden relaxation be caused by?" His fingers caught in the thick gel of his hair as he ran a frustrated hand through it. "They can't use me in the labs because I'm only sixteen, but in two years, I'll be like a slave. They'll force me to work for them, but I'll get nothing in return... not even a call to my family."

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand. It wasn't to relieve his pain, although it did, but to comfort him. Kurt thought back to the times when his mom or dad would hug him when he cried and how it made him instantly feel better. He pulled the other boy towards his body and wrapped his weak arms around him. Blaine stiffened in his arms as if he'd never been embraced and didn't know what to do. Then the wheels seemed to come unstuck and he slowly wrapped his arms around Kurt's slender frame. The warmth from it almost overwhelmed him, sending him into a dizzying spin of peace. His vision began to go blurry at the edges, body going boneless. Blaine seemed to feel Kurt's weight deaden in his arms, and released him.

The feelings of loss returned, but in a less powerful way. It was almost as if some of Blaine's power was still holding to him.

"Well," Blaine began, "breakfast is over, but I know some of the kitchen staff and I can get us some food. You must be hungry."

Kurt nodded as his stomach gave an agreeable noise. A laugh escaped the other boy.

"C'mon then." He stood up and extended a hand towards him. This time it was Kurt's turn to stare at it. He didn't want Blaine to think he was this fragile little thing that constantly had depressing feelings swirling around inside of him. But he also didn't want to be rude. Blaine seemed to sense his inner turmoil.

"I'm not going to think you're using me for my healing powers, if that's what you think, simply by taking my hand." He said.

Kurt blushed and placed his hand in Blaine's. He welcomed the warmth that gathered in his fingertips and slowly spread to his chest, but also smiled at the way their hands fit perfectly in one another's. Blaine smiled back at him as he pulled him to his feet.

"Let's go meet my friend Nick."

* * *

**A/N: Reviews are appreciated, but not necessary.**


End file.
